


What Makes a Hero

by Mizu7



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Mondatta death mention, road to recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizu7/pseuds/Mizu7
Summary: Widowmaker visits a quiet temple in Nepal.





	What Makes a Hero

 

“I was hoping we would meet someday.” 

 

Widowmaker remained silent, standing in the large open doorway of the temple. She stared at the omnic monk who seemed to tilt his head in amusement. 

It wasn’t exactly the reaction she was expecting, though she wasn’t sure what she should have expected in the first place. 

The sun was setting behind her, beyond the small aircraft where Lena remained inside and waited anxiously, and beyond the mountains of Nepal. The light cast a dark shadow of the once deadly sniper along the snow speckled stone floor, stopping right where the omnic quietly sat floating a few inches from the ground.

“There is much on your mind, as is mine. Please sit,” he gestured out before him where a bright red pillow lay in front of him with a small kettle and a cup with soft wisps of steam emitting from it. 

“You need not worry about my student,” he added, catching the way her trained eyes subtly glanced around the dark corners of the temple,”You would not come all this way with ill intentions.”

She hadn’t touched a gun in weeks, her Talon given suit was torn to shreds while her headgear was given to Overwatch for study - hoping for intel or at least the removal of any tracking devices. Talon would never find her, least of all here. 

With a hesitant nod she entered, slipping off her boots and placing them aside she slowly made her way into the hallowed temple. The silence was deafening, her stomach twisted anxiously, as if her very presence was not welcomed in a place of peace. 

It had taken her days to conjure up the resolve to meekly request a ride from Lena, the poor girl tried but failed to contain her excitement about the very idea which only made the sniper feel worse. Luckily Lena got the hint and remained quiet during their ride to Nepal, offering soft words of encouragement as she watched Widowmaker slowly walk up the steps of Zenyatta’s home alone. 

She knelt upon the red pillow and watched as he gently descended upon his, sitting cross legged and at eye level with her. 

The frigid air became heavy. 

Yet the two could not feel the cold. 

They stared at each other in silence, unreadable faces with thousands of words to say yet there was nothing.

“I must admit, I was quite surprised to hear of what has become of you,” Zenyatta started slowly.“I am...conflicted,” he sighed, shoulders sagging slightly as he shook his head.  “I miss my brother very much, as do many others who sought his wisdom.”

Widowmaker had never known much about her targets, save for the head in her crosshairs, and the recoil of the rifle. 

“Confusion, anger, guilt, hatred - they are all human emotions, yet even I could not rid myself of them after his death.”    
  
She refused to look anywhere else but his eyes.   
  
“And after many years of seeking peace for myself and others...here you are. I would be a hypocrite to deny you that peace, if you are sincere I will help you in anyway I can. You have the potential to be so much more than you are now, as all people do. I see a hero in you some day.”

At this Widowmaker finally spoke, wishing her voice were stronger,“I am no hero.”

He shook his head,“Heroes are not born out of happiness.” Zenyatta tilted his head curiously at her as she stared at him,“Do you think the young woman who brought you here would still be the same had she not seen her world at war? Be lost in the threads of time? See her own city burn? Those experiences bring pain and trauma yet she chooses to fight, and finds the happiness and love within her to share with others so they may not suffer as she has.”

Widowmaker blinked back in surprise, still silent but now genuinely speechless. 

“This world, unfortunate as it may be, has created many heroes, many forged from great pain and suffering. My brother’s death brought much sorrow but from the ashes he became a martyr, inspiring thousands to take up arms and raise their voices against injustice.”

If she didn’t know any better, he appeared to be smiling at her. 

“Even a teacher never stops learning and seeing you here has given me hope.”

She watched as he lifted a hand up, taking one of his many orbs that gently floated around his shoulders into a gentle grasp,“Your pain is your own, but you do not have to walk it alone.”

The orb glowed with a soft warm yellow light.

“Would you like to meditate with me?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by Artbytesslyn


End file.
